


Katsu

by tiny-freakin-head (Hobbitfing)



Series: Classics [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood, Crying, I don't know how to tag for something that doesn't have smut in it oh god, Katsu has a crush, Katsu is capable of murder, Marcus is oblivious, More Blood, death and respawn, gender ambigious Katsu, sick, they're going to awkwardly dance around this crush for the next couple years until Bea shows up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:30:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitfing/pseuds/tiny-freakin-head
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Bea, there was Katsu. </p><p>This is a pre-something to Heavy Smoke, so this is our OC of the Classic Medic and our OC Marcus, whose name we borrowed from jealousy-blood on tumblr. </p><p>Let us know if the Japanese is bad, please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Katsu arrives

Alright, a new team member arriving—especially a Medic, who he’d probably be working with the most closely—was more interesting than sitting around waiting for the battles to begin. And yeah, Marcus was curious, but he wasn’t going to lurk around the train station for hours like the others. He just happened to go for a ride in that direction, that was all. Pulling his motorcycle to a stop beside the rough, wooden train platform, he shaded his eyes with one hand, staring in the direction the train was due to arrive from. Was that a cloud of dust on the horizon? 

It was the train, and soon enough it was screeching to a halt in front of the platform. The slender person who got off was not exactly what Marcus had been expecting. Wearing a dark blue robe with a wide sash and a long coat, their long hair tied back rather sternly from their face, it was difficult to guess at their gender. The Medic’s face was feminine, hairless, but severe and unsmiling. There was a noticeable scar through their lip and they carried with them a large pack. 

The Medic bowed to the teammates who had come to meet them, greeting them quietly.

While the others stood around gawking and probably making the poor Medic uncomfortable, Marcus rolled his eyes and dismounted. Striding over to the newcomer, he offered his hand. “Heavy. You the new Medic?” Marcus felt kind of like an idiot, standing beside the new arrival—much too large and awkward. Still, he’d make a great meat-shield for someone this small. 

The small Medic took his offered hand, brown eyes a little wide as they looked up -and up- at him. “Yes. Hello.”

The poor little…person…looked so nervous. Marcus smiled, then inclined his head in the direction of his bike. “Want a ride back to base?” 

“On that?” Medic raised an eyebrow. Their eyes flickered across everyone else, then they nodded. 

Climbing on again and firing up the bike, Marcus patted the seat behind himself. “Hop on, then. You don’t mind keeping your bag on your back?” 

Awkwardly, the Medic adjusted their bag and climbed onto the large bike behind Marcus. “I can manage.”

“Hold on tight!” Marcus called over his shoulder, shouting to be heard over the noise of the engine. Feeling the Medic settle against his back, he pulled the bike into a tight turn and roared back to the base. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to offer a ride; he’d never taken any of his other teammates on his bike before. 

The Medic clutched at their coat a little, eyes wide. They had never been on a motorcycle before, but it was thrilling, admittedly. And they weren’t about to turn down what seemed like a friendly offer. Hopefully this wasn’t some sort of test. If they threw up afterwards, surely that would be seen as weakness. Luckily, they had a very strong stomach.

Coming to a much more careful stop than usual, on account of his passenger- he could feel how tense the Medic was, behind him—Marcus killed his bike and engaged the kick stand, staying on to keep it steady for his new teammate. “Here it is,” he said, waving a hand at the collection of ramshackle, dusty, faded buildings. “Home sweet home.” 

“You have worked here long?” the Medic’s voice was a little strained. They readjusted their bag. Strapped alongside the bag, to their side, was a long parcel, about two feet long. “…Do you like it?”

Marcus shrugged. “Not quite a week. …Nah, maybe a little longer. I like it so far. Not much to do so far besides eat and sleep. Food’s ok, at least. Want a hand carrying anything to your room? I can show you around a little, if you want. Seeing as we’ll be working together, figure we may as well get to know one another better.” The Medic’s voice wasn’t much of a help either, honestly, for determining the newcomer’s gender. 

“I can manage my things. I would appreciate you showing me the… base,” they hesitated before selecting the most accurate word. Their english was good, but heavily accented. “Do you know where I should leave my things?”

“I’ll show you your room…and the infirmary.” 

“Thank you,” the Medic nodded, following Marcus through the base. Upon reaching the room labelled with the cross, they dropped their bag at the foot of the bed and carefully unstrapped the long parcel from themselves, setting it down a little more reverently. “You and I will work closely?” 

“That’s what they tell me, yeah. I don’t know if you got one…they gave me this big, boring book about strategy and working with my teammates, blah blah. Anyway, it said the Heavy and the Medic usually stick pretty close.” Speaking of being close…the new Medic smelled pretty good. This close. 

“I read the book, yes.” It could have been a much bigger book, honestly. There were still many things the Medic did not understand about their work here. They followed the Heavy through the halls towards the infirmary. 

Marcus laughed. “Well, you’re doing better than me, then. I couldn’t get through that sh—thing.” He bumped open the infirmary door with his hip. “Here you are. I guess you’ll be spending a lot of time in here.” 

Their eyes widened and they spun around, looking at the space they’d been given. “This is bigger than I had expected,” they admitted. “Have you… have you experienced respawn yet?”

“Used to a smaller space? Well, should be nice to have an upgrade.” Marcus shrugged, looking nervously at all the strange, intimidating medical equipment and trying very hard not to imagine what it could be used for. “Don’t ask me what any of this stuff is for, though; can’t help you with that.” He leaned against a counter, shaking his head. “Nah, not yet. The Soldier was asking if we could try it out before battle, but they told him it’s too expensive. Takes too much power or something.” 

“It is just as well, killing each other or ourselves might damage morale,” the Medic nodded. They opened a few drawers and seemed pleased to find them full of bottles and tools.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Marcus grinned, watching his new teammate. “Got all the…needles and pills and bandaids you need?” 

“I should. I will not be using them much in the field, according to what I was told. The medigun should be sufficient,” they said, going to grab the large backpack, hose and nozzle. “Oh! It’s… heavier than I expected,” they frowned, putting it on and adjusting it to make it more comfortable. This was going to be harder work than they’d expected, with this kind of weight.

Marcus frowned, circling his new Medic. “Mind if I…?” He touched one of the straps. 

The Medic shook their head, watching Marcus over their shoulder. A few strands of their long dark hair slipped from the knot at the back of their head.

“It’s still set for the last Medic to use it, I think. If I tighten this…” Marcus pulled a strap free at the small of the Medic’s back, slid it a few notches further, and buckled it again. “…and lift this…” he put a hand beneath the medigun’s heavy backpack and raised it a little, then tightened both straps going over his teammate’s shoulders. “There, better?” 

“Yes, thank you,” their face was flushed. 

“You alright? I didn’t pinch or anything?” 

“It fits much better,” they nodded, swallowing. Marcus’ hands were still on their shoulders and they couldn’t help but enjoy it. It had been awhile since they’d touched someone, really, or been touched. 

“I’m glad,” Marcus said. Giving the Medic a quick, confused look, he took a step back. Maybe he was making his new teammate uncomfortable? “Anyway, don’t worry too much about the weight—I’m not very fast. I’m sure you’ll be able to keep up with me.” He gave the Medic a reassuring smile. 

“I will try my best,” they gave Marcus the first smile he’d seen on their face. 

Marcus grinned. “Hey, it’s nice to see you smile. Can’t do any better than your best, right? Want me to show you around a little more, or let you figure things out on your own?” 

“I appreciate the offer, but I would like to get used to the infirmary,” they said. “You have… thank you,” they repeated.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Marcus hoped the Medic would relax a little; it would make him tense, working with someone with such a big stick up her…his…ass. 

“Hai,” they bowed their head a little.

Ok, that was adorable. Marcus had no idea what the fuck it meant, but… “Yeah.” He gave a little head-bow in return, then turned and left the infirmary, shaking his head a little. He headed for the Engineer’s workshop. 

The short man was poring over a blueprint. He turned when Marcus came in. “Hey, did you meet him? How’s he settlin’ in?”

“He who?” Marcus asked, helping himself to a stool and a beer from the Engineer’s cooler. 

“He… the Medic, of course, who else would be settling in?” Paxton laughed. “And help yourself.”

“I dunno,” Marcus replied, laughing. “Are you sure he’s a he? I…wasn’t sure.” He tossed the Engineer a beer, too. 

“He’s a bit delicate,” Paxton nodded, making a few marks on his blueprints. “You could ask for his file, if you really weren’t sure.”

“Wouldn’t I have to ask him for his file? Be a bit awkward, don’t you think?” Marcus shrugged. “I would’ve figured it out sooner or later, but thanks. He didn’t have much in the way of tits, but I thought it might just be because he’s Asian.” He drained half his beer in one swallow, shaking his head. “Honestly, I’m a little worried about him. He looks a little…fragile, and he said the medigun was heavy. I hope he’ll be able to keep up.” 

“You could always get his file from the Spy too, I’m sure he’s got copies. If the Medic can’t hack it, then he won’t last,” Paxton shrugged. “Don’t worry, Heavy.”

“I know.” Marcus drained the rest of his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the barrel the Engineer kept for that purpose. “Thanks, Engie. I’ll let you get back to what you’re up to. I just wanted to see what you thought about our new teammate. See you tomorrow!” 

“Good night,” he called after Marcus. He should go to bed soon, he thought, as he opened a new beer and sharpened his pencil.


	2. Respawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they both go through respawn for the first time, and it hurts in more ways than one

Marcus laughed, a huge grin on his face. “Hey, doc, you doin’ alright back there?” He turned, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his Medic shadow, mowing down an enemy Soldier in a spray of bullets. “Isn’t this the best?” 

The Medic, red faced and panting, gave him a withering look. This man was insane. They’d razed through the battlefield like a sword, but he was struggling to keep up. The pack was heavy, the medigun awkward, the battle terrifying. His heart had been in his throat all morning. Even with the Heavy’s slow speed, he felt like he was dying running around like this. Still, he’d come to appreciate the Heavy’s nature. He was always safe in the larger man’s shadow. 

“I—” Marcus’ voice cut off abruptly, ending in a choking gurgle. His head snapped back, hands clawing at his throat, blood pouring from between his fingers. His eyes were huge, and he was gasping and fighting for breath. 

“Heavy!” the Medic cried, immediately pressing his fingers over the hole in the other man’s throat. His mask muffled his yell. His medigun fell forgotten to the ground. Eyes watering, he tried to help him down to his knees without falling too hard. “Onegai-!” 

Marcus fell, clutching at his Medic’s shoulders, dimly trying to remember not to fall on the other man and crush him. His hands fisted in his teammate’s coat, he wheezed, straining for air. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t form words. His mouth went slack, his head falling back as the muscles in his neck couldn’t support it any longer. His grip on the Medic’s shoulders was the only thing keeping him on his knees. 

The blood just spurted out around his fingers, he couldn’t seem to keep it in. This was worse than he’d expected; he knew his teammates would die around him and live again, but seeing it and feeling it, especially the Heavy who had been taking such good care of him… the Medic held in a sob. 

With a final gasp, Marcus’ eyes went glassy. His hands spasmed, tightening painfully on the Medic’s shoulders, then went limp. He fell backward, legs bending unnaturally beneath him. 

The Medic lifted his hands away, standing slowly. He wiped the blood from his hands onto his pants. He wiped his face with his sleeve. There was blood there too, and tears. He cursed quietly, glancing around the battlefield. Somehow, they had neglected to shoot him along with his companion. He froze. Where should he go? He spotted their Demoman, grabbed the medigun and began to follow his teammate, feeling numb, his hands shaking.

***

There was a sense of movement, as if everything was rushing past him, or maybe he was rushing and everything else was perfectly still. There was a bang, like a car backfiring, and then pain. His knees hurt; he’d collapsed, he was on all fours on cold, white tile. He swallowed, hard, then he was violently retching. There was nothing in his stomach, because…he’d never eaten anything…he gagged again, spitting out bile. His head was killing him, and his stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out his throat. 

Then someone was putting a bucket under his face and patting his back gently. “There you go, that’s alright, don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon,” Engineer’s soothing voice told him.

Groaning, Marcus collapsed onto his side, curled around the bucket, clutching his stomach, twisting his neck so he could press his burning, pounding head to the cool tile, eyes tightly squeezed shut. “…dying…” he moaned.

Engineer grabbed a damp cloth and put it to Marcus’ forehead. “Yeah, it feels like hell the first time, but it gets easier each time, trust me,” he sighed. “Don’t worry about getting back out there, you’ll need a little time to feel better.” He quickly wiped up the mess the Heavy had made so no one would step in it. 

“Y-you promise?” Moving very, very slowly, Marcus rolled just a little, so he could see the Engineer’s face. He laughed, weakly. “I feel like…like someone’s trying to swap my ass and my mouth, by pulling them through my body. Oh, god…” he groaned, curling around himself again. “Thanks…” 

“I promise,” Engineer knelt by him. “Just lay still for a bit.”

Marcus closed his eyes and waited. He briefly dozed off, and when he opened his eyes, he felt like he could move without throwing up. Very tentatively, he stretched out one arm, enjoying the cool tile on his wrist. 

Engineer let him lay down for awhile. After a little bit, he helped Marcus sit up on one of the benches. “There you go, how’s your head?” he passed him a cup of water.

“Ugh. Thanks, Engie.” Marcus sniffed the water, made a face, and took a tiny sip. He laughed. “What’re you doing in here, anyway? You see me go down? Fuck. I feel like such a…I just missed half the battle, laying around in here. I guess I should go start packing, huh?” Fuck. And he’d been worried about the Medic not being able to cut it. 

“Nope. My job for the first week is just to see everyone through respawn,” Engineer sat next to him. “The first time I went through, I puked my guts out and thought I was gonna die again,” he laughed. “Everyone’s gonna struggle with it, so cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m glad you were here,” Marcus admitted, with a weak smile. “Thanks.” He wiped his eyes and finished his water. “You promise?” 

“Promise. Now you rest up and feel better.” He patted Marcus’ shoulder.

“I…I don’t have to go back out there today?” Marcus asked, in a very small voice. 

“Nope.”

Marcus wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Thanks.” He stumbled to his feet and trudged out of the respawn room toward his bed. 

***

On his way to bed, Marcus had been trying to decide if he wanted a drink or not—he wasn’t sure his stomach could handle alcohol, but he felt like shit and he thought it might help his head. He collapsed onto his bed, facedown, and instantly fell asleep. 

He woke up a few hours later, stomach rumbling and mouth bone-dry. He groped around the bed, feeling for bottles, but came up empty. He’d have to emerge. 

When he got into the kitchen, he found almost everyone there. Paxton whirled around, then laughed. “Shit, son, I thought you’d be a bit longer, things aren’t quite ready. Well, uh, we’re having a little get together here for you. Got cake and beer and lots of food. Even found a good movie for us to watch if we get sick of cards.” He grinned at the huge man. 

“You…you’re having a party for me?” Marcus blinked, a dopey grin on his face.

“Yep, gonna have one for everyone’s first respawn,” Paxton grabbed a beer and tossed it to Marcus. “Let’s go to the rec room and play some cards.” He had thought about calling these parties ‘funerals’ but that seemed like it might bring a different mood to the whole thing. 

Marcus caught the beer, looking a little stunned. “Thanks?”

Everyone grabbed food and other things and they headed over to the rec hall to drink and talk. 

The Medic grabbed Marcus’ arm before he could get too far down the hall. “You are feeling alright?”

“Aw, shit, doc, I’m sorry! I must’ve scared you…not coming back. I hope someone told you what happened.” Marcus gave his Medic a grin, gently patting his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m feeling fine now. Uh…I’m going to protect you even better tomorrow, ok?” He wouldn’t wish going through respawn on anyone. Well, except the enemy team, he supposed. 

“Engineer told me. I am glad you are alright. Do you remember very much of it?” He was curious about how death worked here, about how Heavy had experienced it.

“More than I want to, doc. More than I want to.” Marcus sighed; he should probably try and explain it, because it was going to happen to the Medic eventually, no matter how carefully Marcus protected him. “It was like…you know when you’re almost asleep, and then you feel like you’re falling?” 

“Hai,” he nodded. “I am sorry I could not heal you.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I was gone pretty quick. Didn’t feel a thing.” 

He nodded. He had felt odd all day, and it was good to see Marcus up and moving around like normal. Finding his teammate’s blood all over himself when he came back to the base to shower was an unsettling feeling. 

“Are you ok?” Marcus decided not to mention, right at that moment, how sick he’d felt after he’d respawned. 

“Hai, I managed,” he patted Marcus’ arm gently before heading towards the rec hall.

***

Having experienced respawn for himself now, Marcus was doubly vigilant about shielding and protecting his Medic. He respawned several times, and while it was still an uncomfortable feeling, and he still felt nauseous, the Engineer had been right: the first time was definitely the worst. 

Still, there was no preventing the Medic’s death forever. One second he was at Marcus’ back, the next he was on his knees a few feet behind him. Blood was pouring out of his chest and he was struggling to breathe. 

Over the roar of battle—guns and men screaming—Marcus didn’t realize he was alone until he took a piece of shrapnel to his rib, cutting right through his body armour, and he didn’t immediately feel the cooling, numbing rays of the medigun. Frowning, he turned, only to see the Medic huddled in the dust twenty feet behind him. Elbowing an enemy Demoman out of the way, making sure he went down, Marcus turned and ran back to his fallen comrade. “Medic? You alright? What happened?” He knelt beside the Medic, inhaling sharply when he saw the blood spreading across the doctor’s uniform, much too quickly. Not sure what else to do, Marcus pressed a hand to the wound. 

The Medic looked up at him helplessly, shaking his head. He put a hand over Marcus’, curling in on himself. He heaved up blood, falling limply against the Heavy. He felt himself falling and everything whirled dizzyingly around him. Flashes of colour, little snaps of sound… it was like his brain was trying to snap back into all the sensations it ought to be feeling. Then he was on his feet, quickly falling over and managing to catch himself on his hands and knees. He retched, coughing. He expected to taste blood and was surprised when he didn’t.

Marcus held the Medic until he went still and limp, ignoring the battle around them. Long after the Medic had stopped moving, his body suddenly disappeared with a static discharge that knocked Marcus flat on his ass. Gasping, Marcus sat up and blinked. Groaning, he remembered how awful he’d felt after his respawn. Getting to his feet, he headed back to his own base to pick up his Medic and make sure he was alright. 

“Hey, doc,” came a quiet voice to the Medic’s left. Paxton knelt beside his newest teammate, sliding a pail beneath him and setting a warm, gentle, reassuring hand on the small of his back. “Need anything? I’ll get you some water in a minute.” 

He shook his head miserably. His head felt swollen and terrible. Every motion, every cough felt like it was adding to his pain tenfold. He had questions he wanted to ask about respawn, but he couldn’t seem to form words. He pulled off his helmet and his mask, afraid that he might be sick into his mask.

“I know you feel like hell,” Paxton continued, in a low, soothing voice, “but I promise, you’ll feel better, real soon. You just lie still, don’t worry about tryin’ to get back out there right away.”

Marcus burst into the respawn room, puffing and blowing. “Medic? You alright, doc?” The Medic was pale, and he was soaked with sweat, beads of it standing out on his face. “You look like shit.” 

He nodded, burying his face in his hands. He’d rather they’d stuck him in a dark room and left him alone, rather than badgering him in the brightest, whitest room in the base. His stomach rolled and he groaned, grabbing the pail the Engineer had given him and clutching at it.

Operating solely on instinct, Marcus knelt beside the Medic and slowly, gently, shaking him as little as possible, gathered the smaller man into his arms. “I don’t mind if you ralph on me,” he murmured, stroking a strand of the Medic’s surprisingly coarse black hair away from his sweaty face. 

Interesting, Paxton thought, watching the two of them. It was very important to the team for the Heavy and Medic to work well together as a unit. He hadn’t been sure about this pair, and he was relieved to see they seemed to have meshed well so far. 

Burying his face against Marcus’ shoulder, the Medic tried to keep still and focus on …something else. Anything else. The Heavy’s rough hand felt good against his face and that, at least, was distracting. But it was another thing he didn’t want to focus on. The big man was surprisingly kind and gentle, but he doubted that he’d appreciate his Medic being attracted to him. Instead, he focused on the bones in Marcus’ fingers, struggling to remember the names of them in English. 

“Sorry, I’m sure this doesn’t feel good, but you’ll feel better when you’re in bed and it’s dark, ok? I promise.” Still carrying the Medic as gingerly as possible, keeping the smaller man cradled against his chest, Marcus carried his teammate to the Medic’s room. “Just hang in there, alright?” 

Seeing that those two seemed to be managing, Paxton returned to his bench to wait for the next teammate to respawn who needed a bit of comforting. In the meantime…he licked his finger and used it to turn the page of his magazine. 

The Medic protested quietly, but couldn’t really do much about being carried. “Please, you should be in the battle.” He closed his eyes tightly as everything spun and clung to the Heavy tightly, despite his words to the contrary. 

“Wouldn’t be much good without you,” Marcus replied, gently laying his teammate in his bed and tucking him in up to his chin. “I’ll be right back.” Each room had a tiny water closet with a toilet and sink. Marcus soaked a face cloth in cold water, and filled a glass with water as well. “Besides, I remember how fucking shitty I felt. If I’d been able to talk, I might’ve been crying for my mommy. It’s kind of nice, being able to take care of someone who’s going through the same thing, you know?” He laid the cloth on the Medic’s forehead and set the water on his bedside table where he’d be able to reach it. “Oh yeah, almost forgot.” He found a small bucket under the Medic’s sink, which he also set within easy reach, off the edge of the bed. “Want anything else? Some…crackers, maybe?” 

His stomach violently protested the thought of food and he groaned. “Please, no. Thank you for this. I am sorry I …died.” The Medic felt hot and cold, skin damp with sweat. He sat up, pushing off the covers and began struggling with his boots, he shouldn’t even be wearing them in his room and now he was on his bed. His body armour was hardly comfortable when he was laying down either. 

Marcus laughed. “You’re apologizing to me for dying?” Without waiting for permission, he sat on the Medic’s bed and helped him out of his boots. “Shit, it’s my job to protect you, doc. I didn’t even realize you were down until it was too late.” 

“It is so much chaos,” he groaned. “You protect me well, Heavy,” he flushed, watching Marcus undo his boot laces. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You take good care of me, too.” Marcus tossed the boots aside, shrugging at his teammate. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to make of you at first.” He laughed. “Actually, I wasn’t sure if you were a man or a woman, when I first saw you. But you keep up with me, and keep me out of too much trouble. I’d be dying a lot more out there without you.” He patted the Medic’s thigh. “Hey, I’ll let you sleep. I’m sure the last thing you feel like doing right now is talking to me.” He gave the Medic a soft, fond look, then offered his hand, blushing a little. “But…I gotta say, I feel a little weird having you call me Heavy all the time. Half the time, I don’t even realize it’s me you’re talking to right away. I understand if you want to keep doing it in battle, or around other people, but…Marcus. My name’s Marcus.” 

His blush deepened and he hoped his teammate would assume it was due to feeling ill. He took Marcus’ offered hand and shook it, but couldn’t help bowing his head as he did so. “Katsu.”

“Katsu; I like that. Anyone ever call you ‘Cats’ for short?” Marcus laughed. “You’re definitely quiet enough; you’ve snuck up on me a few times.” 

Katsu tried to give him a glower, but ended up groaning and clutching at the bucket again. 

“Alright, alright, sorry! Katsu it is. I’ll leave you alone…unless you’d like me to stay.” Marcus shrugged. 

“You should return to battle. I wish I could go with you,” he said. “I will be fine.”

“I know you do. You just rest up, so you feel better for tomorrow.” Marcus gave the Medic—Katsu—another pat on the thigh, then stood up and left him alone. Battle was definitely more difficult by himself, and he went through respawn several times, but he couldn’t blame Katsu for needing a few hours to recover. 

Katsu curled up around his pillow and cried quietly through the worst of the agony of respawn.


	3. Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this might be super obvious but we had fun writing it.

Marcus and Katsu worked well together—Marcus attacking and destroying the enemy team, Katsu healing him so he could keep fighting. There were occasionally moments when Marcus might have liked it if Katsu was able to defend himself, but for the most part, they had a system and it worked. 

They were moving forward quickly today, but Katsu felt like he was lagging. He still wasn’t used to so much running about and exercise, especially in full armour with his medigun on his back. He finally caught up to Marcus who was waiting behind some cover and took a moment to catch his breath. A tingle went up Katsu’s spine. At this point, he had been stabbed by the Spy a few times before, and he was getting better at identifying when he was being paranoid and when there was a legitimate danger. Whirling around constantly assuming every sound was a Spy had actually gotten them both into more danger, and ignoring all the signs because maybe he was being paranoid hadn’t worked out either. 

Though they’d been in battle together for some time, Katsu had never had an opportunity to use the sword he carried. He’d always kept it on him, but carrying the medigun made it difficult to use sometimes, seeing as he needed both hands for it. He dropped the medigun, unsheathed his sword and with a quick horizontal slice, cut cleanly through the Spy’s invisible torso, blood spattering back at him. 

Marcus only had time to say, “Hey Ka—” when his Medic rejoined him, before his teammate was on his feet, launching himself through the air. He saw gleaming metal, and then Katsu was covered in blood and there was an enemy Spy on the ground—cut completely in half. It was a good thing there were no other enemies around—Marcus could only stand and stare, mouth agape, trying to piece together what had just happened, and how…if…Katsu’d had anything to do with it. 

Katsu quickly cleaned the blood off his sword, taking a cloth from one of his pockets. He’d practiced many times with the sword, but never actually used it on anyone before. It was… oddly thrilling. His chest was heaving a little and he was grinning beneath his mask. 

“I…Katsu, what the fuck just happened?” 

An enemy Demoman crossed in front of them, considered engaging, and then saw his murdered teammate bleeding into the dust. He made an abrupt about-face and continued deeper into the battle. 

“I heard him!” Katsu practically crowed, sheathing his sword and grabbing the medigun again. 

“Ok, you heard him, good job, I’m impressed. But…then what happened?” 

“I killed him.” Katsu pulled down his mask and gave Marcus a steady look. “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“That was you?! How did you do that?” 

Katsu indicated his sword, taking the medigun in one hand and gently touching the hilt. 

Marcus laughed, shaking his head in wonder. “Katsu, we’ve been working together, what…a month now? And you never told me you carry a fucking sword in battle?”

“You didn’t see it? It is not a small sword,” he chuckled. “We should probably not hesitate here.” The Spy’s body disappeared behind them.

“I don’t know!” Marcus cried, laughing, “I thought it was…some kind of Medic thing! Katsu, you just cut someone in half with a sword, like that! I didn’t even see you move!” 

He flushed with the praise. “Thank you. I do not always have time to drop the medigun, but I would like to defend myself and you.”

Marcus shook his head again, clapping a hand on Katsu’s shoulder. “You’re just full of fucking surprises, aren’t you? Bet they’ll be talking about that around the supper table tonight; I don’t think that Spy even had time to see it coming, but you must’ve scared the fuck outta that Demo.” 

He smiled before pulling up his mask, indicating he was ready to go by flicking on the medigun and aiming it at his Heavy.

Marcus tore back into battle, roaring with laughter as he mowed down his enemies. Fucking Katsu, carrying a fucking sword around all this time, chopping a guy in half out of no where like it was nothing…yeah, he definitely liked this guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet Marcus and Katsu use the thumbs up a lot during battle, what with Katsu's mask.


End file.
